


what you are, to all but yourself

by CyberPhoenix



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: 'not as big of an asshole as you couldve been' terrence, Gen, implied death? bro idk its the dethronement stuff, uhghghhgh idk what to put here, wrote this at 4am then went immediately back to sleep.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberPhoenix/pseuds/CyberPhoenix
Summary: you'd think he'd be angry, facing what amounted to his own execution.but all on his mind is that this was always going to be inevitable.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	what you are, to all but yourself

It was disasterous, to say the least, the beginning of the end of it all. A botched heist, worst he'd ever seen, with heavy losses and wounds that would take weeks to recover from at best. Once, he might have driven himself mad looking for why things went the way they did, finding the tiniest of details to tweak for things to work out better for next time-- but that man was long gone, and the Terrence that people might've once depended on was replaced with one so bitter and tired that "next time" had started seeming more like a myth. Everything went into the _now_ , instead. All or nothing, one might say.

The second reason that "next time" didn't exist were the rumors he would hear, the hushed whispers and furious glares, glanced only out of the corner of his vision, where the shadows of his heart preyed upon his paranoia. He knew things were going bad, in all honesty. He wasn't an idiot, merely... stubborn. Stubborn to an extreme fault. No longer did the people put their faith in him to drag them out of the hole someone else had dug them into. No longer did the clan see him as someone they could rely on. And no longer did they want him to be leader.

So it was no surprise when, as he was reclining in his chair, going over for the forty-third time just all they'd lost this past week, the doors bust open, and his right hand stormed in, alongside another. His successors, here to claim what was rightfully theirs. He barely heard the accusation over the storm of his own thoughts. One of the worst leaders the clan has ever known, a disgrace to all Toppats, and no longer fit for his position. He'd thought all the same before, this was nothing that new.

  


But if there was one thing Terrence wasn't, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. He found his voice as he stood up, hands clenched into fists he could not raise against those he had so tried to care for. The clan had _nothing_ when he took charge, off of the heels of recklessness. His plans, his heists, they had worked, despite their costs. Things weren't terrible anymore, things were finally looking stable for once-- and so _what_ if some sacrifices needed to be made? It was all for the good of the clan as a whole, wasn't it? Without the risks there would be nothing left to claim.

Besides. Copperbottom didn't seem ready to lead. To rule, maybe. To care so much for others, maybe. To put the clan first, even at his own expense, maybe. It wasn't as if he wasn't capable, but... the pressures of leadership always seemed to surprise even him. The tough decisions, of what really was best. The long nights mulling over how things went wrong. The heart-stopping point of no return when responsibility had to be assumed by someone and it all led back to the leader. It wasn't something anyone could just barge in and take, and it wasn't anything that Terrence was about to let go of.

  


"So, you aren't going to step down peacefully?" He vaguely heard, the words cutting through the mist of his own breathy, pained rant. Terrence's gaze flickered to the door, to a slight movement. Others were here, listening in. Waiting to make their move. Waiting to take him down. He had always known he was outnumbered in this-- he'd lost the trust of any last few remaining loyal to him with how painfully wrong things had gone. It made sense, to be honest. He'd only be remembered for his faults, at the end of the day, because he had driven the clan only deeper into the nightmare they'd yet to awaken from. And Terrence was so, so tired.

But could he really just step down? Be banished disgracefully at best, be made to stay and shunned at worst? Forced to live with everything he'd done but only being able to hold solace in the idea that he hadn't resisted the inevitable? Terrence Suave, the quitter? No, no no no, that wouldn't do at all. If he was going to go out, he'd be the villain they all needed. The force to rally against, in hopes that his fall would lead to greater hopes and heights for the clan. If he stuck around... so would this feeling of despair.

So he shook his head, smiled at the gun raised against him, and began to walk, hands raised, all the time spitting out everything he wanted to say. Spite was a good motivator, now that he thought about it. It fueled the mind to fight against every aspect of what it was turned upon. If he was to be everything the clan despised, then he'd at least make sure these mistakes wouldn't be repeated again. He scorned loyalty, honor, care, caution, all the traits of a strong clan and good leadership. Spat at the feet of those who so looked upon him with pity, so they would turn away, eyes turning to anger. He would fill this role so chosen for him, so shaped for his sins. It was the least he could do for the clan he so loved, and the clan he so failed.

Terrence Suave falls, but he does not regret. Finally, it will be time to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> hey follow me on tumblr @hemlock-up-my-heart   
> ill try to post more stuff <3


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